


Dissapointed bestfriend/lover

by Andreri25



Series: Loving in Doriath and Beyond [5]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Beleg is a tease, Jealousy, M/M, Not quite what the prompt said, Turin has anger management issues, darn word limit cut the suculence, hot make out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 09:57:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13097688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andreri25/pseuds/Andreri25
Summary: Day 3-Everything's fine until Turin comes across the elleth and his lover





	Dissapointed bestfriend/lover

**Author's Note:**

> The hour setting is during and after sunset.

“Is something bothering you?”

Túrin took his eyes away from the window he was leaning against to glance at Beleg at one of the adjacent windows. They were currently in one of bridged passages of Menegroth, beneath them the river roared in all his might and up front the forest extended west further than Túrin’s eyes could reach, tinged red and orange in the falling sun’s light.

It was their first visit home since Túrin had joined the march wardens, almost a year back. It wasn’t usual for newcomers to take leave so soon, but the King and Queen had missed him dearly and had commanded for him to join them in the winter festivities. Túrin himself had begun to feel homesick –though he would never admit it out loud- and was eager to see the palace again, with his beloved Beleg none the less!

That was until they actually arrived at the palace and Beleg was whisked away not ten steps from the door by a gorgeous elleth. He let the instance pass as an urgent matter Beleg had to attend to as Chief March Warden, however the next time he found then it was clearly not a business meeting.

 Túrin had been walking towards the throne room when he stumbled upon the both of them, Beleg’s hand twirling curls inside her chocolate hair and she tenderly running a finger over his fine lips.

Forgetting everything else, Túrin had ran and ran until he found himself in that bridge in the most desolated part of the palace. He didn’t think that Beleg would seek him and join in there a few hours later, though.

“No” The lie wasn’t even half-hearted and instead he glared at those grey eyes he had fallen for, “Do you not have somewhere else to be? In the bed of your lover perhaps?”

“Are your rooms not too close to the King and Queen’s for that to be sensible?” Beleg teased, oblivious.

“You know well who I mean, Cuthalion.” At the blond’s blank expression he barked “The elleth”

Beleg’s face lit up with understanding before a grin spread over it and he bowed his head as his silver laughter filled the air. Turning away from the window to stand face to face with the Man he spoke “That elleth is Lothelth, she is to be our new healer when we return to the marches as our last one has married and is expecting a babe.”

Túrin was not satisfied with that answer “Yet you seemed to be quite intimate!”

“We were”

The eighteen year old was taken aback by the confession and Beleg seized the distraction to close the space between them until their faces were inches apart, one of his hands placed on Túrin’s hip. “Why, are you jealous?” he purred.

Quickly slipping away and turning his back to hide the quiver of his lip, Túrin retorted “Do not play with me, Beleg. You are the best friend I have ever had, I…I do not think I could bear it”

Beleg’s arms wounded around Túrin’s frame from behind. A boy he may be at heart but he already had the physique of a fully grown man and it drove the archer crazy. A hand crawling its way up, Beleg murmured “Do you think me so cold?” he pulled at the collar of Túrin’s cloak and tunic, kissing the naked skin on the crook of his neck. “Do you doubt the truth of my heart because my lips have known another’s?”

Shoving Beleg away with might he made for the end of the bridge but a firm grip on his wrist gave him halt and Túrin found himself crushed against the stone wall.

Beleg smacked their mouths together for a rapid kiss before elaborating “Yes, I did love her; years and years before your forefathers were born. There is nothing either of us can do to change the fact that I have a past before you, melleth.” Drawing a descending line of wet pecks along Túrin’s jaw and down his throat, Beleg stopped just below his collarbone to gently suck at the hot skin.

Túrin noticed with a start that his cloak had been dropped at his feet and his tunic was halfway unbuttoned. “But I saw you today” taking a hold strong enough to bruise of Beleg’s hips he turned them so their positions were reversed. The archer’s long platinum hair getting caught between his back and the rock forced him to pull his head back, exposing his neck. Túrin’s desire got the best of him and he dove forward biting and kissing hard, “She…touched you…and…you…touched…her”, Túrin gasped in between.

“Aye,-” Beleg sighed in pleasure, “…The love may be gone but not so the confidence and closeness.” Túrin bit hard and he grunted. “Same as it would be with us if we were ever to drift apart.”

The Man jerked his head and gazed intently at his lover. “It will never happen. Not for me.” He swore solemnly, and Beleg was tempted to believe him for a fleeting second. “Although it is proved that elves do not love forever” Grey eyes turned to steel and in the next second Túrin found himself sprawled on his back on the cold stone floor, Beleg sitting astride his hips.

The sight took the breath away from Túrin’s lungs: long light hair flowing like silver around the fair face and glistening in the dark of the passage like a river beneath the moonlight; angry red marks peppering his neck and jawline and those fine red lips parted and swollen; finally those eyes held an air of ancientness and wisdom, yet were fey and dangerous as Beleg drew close until Túrin could feel his words barely brushing against his lips. “Speak not of what you know not, child. Besides…” His voice faltered and grey eyes filled with uncharacteristic turmoil as one of his hands came to cup Túrin’s face, the other making its furtive way down in between them. “You, son of Húrin, will not have forever.”


End file.
